Friday morning began with me staring at my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the "Transfer" button.
$5000 → Sugar & Spice Mortgage Account.
One tap... that was all it would take to save my mother’s shop.
One tap funded by a fake relationship with a shirtless hockey captain who had left me stranded at a country club and had a girl on his lap when I showed up to sign the contract.
I pressed the button.
Transaction Successful
The relief hit me so hard my vision blurred for a second.
A long, trembling breath escaped my lips. I sat on the edge of my bed for a full minute, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes and breathing through the tightness in my chest.
Now that the debt was out of the way, a sinking realization hit me; I was officially locked in. For the next month, I was the exclusive property of the Briar University hockey team’s star forward.
My phone vibrated against the marble, and my mother’s name flashing on the screen. I answered it immediately.
"Nora?" Her voice was breathless. "Nora, sweetheart, what is this? I just got a notification from the bank. The mortgage penalty... it’s paid. The account is current."
"I told you I’d handle it, Mom," I said, forcing my voice to sound light and confident.
"But five thousand dollars? Nora, how? You work shifts at the diner and... where did this... you can’t possibly have saved that much in..."
"The athletic department compliance office," I lied smoothly. "They had a budget surplus for elite student tutoring. I signed a contract to tutor one of their varsity players for the rest of the term, and they agreed to advance me the bonus up front. It’s a special program."
There was a long silence on the other end, and then a soft, wet sniffle. "Oh, thank god," my mother whispered. "Nora, you don’t know... the bank was going to lock the doors next week. I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do."
"I know, Mom. It’s okay. The bakery is safe," I said, blinking back a sudden warmth in my own eyes.
She cried for about a minute and I listened, blinking hard at the tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. And I promised myself for the hundredth time that I would never let her lose that bakery.
"I have to get to my morning lecture, mom, but I’ll call you this weekend, okay?"
"Thank you, sweetheart. I love you so much."
"Love you too, Mom."
I hung up, staring at the blank screen. The guilt of lying stung, but the truth... that I was fake-dating a billionaire’s arrogant son to keep him from being suspended, would have given her a heart attack.
I took a deep breath and started my day.
By the time my noon Advanced Macroeconomics lecture was nearing its end, my brain was fried.
Professor Whitman was wrapping up his slide on fiscal policy, his voice droning over the quiet hum of the lecture hall. I sat near the back, copy-coding notes into my notebook, when the heavy exit doors at the top of the theater creaked open.
I didn’t think much of it until a low murmur started rippling through the rows.
I looked up, and there was Knox, walking down the side stairs, completely unbothered by the fact that class was still in session.
He was wearing his black and gold Briar varsity hockey jacket over a grey hoodie, a backwards black cap capping his messy hair, and his hands were shoved casually into his pockets.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.
Professor Whitman paused mid-sentence and glanced toward the back of the room at the human intrusion. "Can I help you, Mr. Sheridan?"
Knox didn’t even flinch.
He stopped in the aisle, looking straight up toward my row. "Just picking up my girlfriend, Professor. Carry on."
A ripple of whispers swept through the lecture hall. Every single head turned... first to Knox, then directly to me. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, my face burning so hot I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
I shoved my notebook into my bag, grabbed my jacket, and climbed over the girl sitting next to me, who was staring at me with her mouth hanging open. I marched toward the back exit without looking at anyone, my ears ringing with the sound of giggles and whispers.
I didn’t stop until I was out in the hallway. Knox followed, his long strides easily keeping pace with my frantic steps.
"What is wrong with you?" I snapped, spinning to face him the moment the doors swung shut behind us. "You can’t just show up at my class and announce to an entire lecture hall that I’m your girlfriend!"
"Why not?" Knox said, looking completely unbothered as he leaned against the brick wall. "We’re supposed to be dating. The more people who see it, the more convincing it is."
"There’s a difference between convincing and ambushing, Sheridan."
"You’re hard to find though, Bookworm."
"It’s called going to class, Sheridan," I replied, crossing my arms. "You know? Like the room we just came out from... with the seats and the professor where people actually learn things. You should try it sometime."
Knox’s mouth curved into a lazy, mocking smirk. "Cute. But I’m not here for a lecture on study habits. We have a problem."
"Aside from your GPA?"
"We don’t have each other’s numbers," he said, ignoring my jab. "How are we supposed to coordinate the bonfire tonight if I can’t text you?"
"You couldn’t have asked for it before you shot out of the country club driveway and left me stranded?" I hissed, stepping closer so the passing students wouldn’t hear. "I had to walk a mile in heels to the nearest bus stop."
"I was giving you space to think, Bennett," he replied in the same tone as mine. "Now, phone."
He reached out. Before I could grab my purse, his large hand slid into the side pocket of my canvas bag and pulled my phone out.
"Hey! Give that back,"